By The Light of the Moon
by TheChimeraSculptress
Summary: Summary: Marie goes for a midnight swim in the Institute's lake and gets an unexpected visitor.


Summary: Marie goes for a midnight swim in the Institute's lake and gets an unexpected visitor.

* * *

Part One

Marie sighed wistfully as she stood at the waters edge, relishing the chill of the damp sand beneath her bare feet. The darkness of night hung heavy in the air and she allowed it to close in and embrace her, welcoming its familiar touch.

The lake looked breath-taking in the moonlight, almost surreal, the moon's reflection seeming to gyrate seductively on the glass-like surface. It seemed to beckon to her. Seduce her into submission. Its beauty was always impossible to resist.

It was full tonight. Ripe. She felt a charge of something mysterious in the air but couldn't determine what exactly. It was probably better that way. It heightened the fantasy. She sighed again, although this time it was laced with sadness when she acknowledged that fantasy was all she had these days.

She took a deep breath and with one swift motion pulled her light cotton dress up over her head and dropped it onto the rocks at her side. She was wearing nothing beneath and the bracing night air felt delicious upon her over-heated skin.

She had a love-hate relationship with this time of year. She hated it because her mutation meant that she had to keep covered up and at times it could become so unbearably she just wanted to cry. On the other hand, she loved it for these nights. When it was warm enough to sneak down to the lake and go for a blissful midnight swim. When she could shed her fears as well as her clothes and just feel normal.

Feel alive.

She returned her attention to the moon again and smiled affectionately, assailed by a sudden whim to swim right up to its reflection, lie on the water's surface and be showered with moonlight. Be touched in ways that were actually possible; that didn't mean certain death for the perpetrator. It didn't look too far. And she had swum the lake enough times in the dark to know what areas could be dangerous.

She took her first step into the water and a shiver of pleasure ran down her spine. So deliciously cool! Just what her suffocating body needed right now. Cold showers just didn't have the same effect. She needed to be outside, not boxed in by four walls. She needed to be free...

As she waded through the night-drenched water, feeling the soft weed tickle playfully at her legs, she realised that she wasn't the only one who craved being free; who yearned for these nights. The Wolverine in her head did too. In fact, he was probably that part of her who had made the decision in the first place. Who had given 'Marie' that little extra push, that extra shred of courage to stop daydreaming about doing it, and actually do it.

His lingering presence, deep within the facets of her mind, was both a blessing and a curse. Ironically, just like this time of year. He was strong, and had helped her become stronger. He was cautious, which had calmed that spirited side of her that could get her into trouble far too often. He was even wise in his way, which a lot of people wouldn't have expected, and that, in turn, had helped her become a better person. Again, a lot of people wouldn't have thought the Wolverine could have a positive effect on a young girl such as herself, but he did; because he was actually hiding a genuinely good man beneath that gruff exterior.

But with the good stuff inevitably came the bad, the fact that the man she loved more than anything in the world was constantly a part of her. Put more crudely, more bluntly, he was inside her but not in the way that she yearned. It was made worst by the fact that he was so experienced where sex was concerned, and along with him she had also absorbed his erotic memories, thoughts and desires. And they were anything but innocent. For any other girl, it wouldn't be quite so bad, but for her, who could not touch through fear of killing someone, it was a torture she could have done without.

The water swirled around her hips now, caressing her body like a lover's touch, and she couldn't help but feel slightly aroused, not only provoked by her chain of thought but also by her present situation, the fact that she was so naked, so exposed, even vulnerable. Anyone could be watching her. Surely she wouldn't be the only one desiring some air on a warm night such as this?

There was only one man that immediately sprung to mind, however, the same man whose memories were tormenting her right now. A man who was as infamous for prowling the institute grounds at night than he was for being grouchy, smoking cigars and downing a beer in one foul swoop. But he was somewhere in the wilds of Canada. Not due back for another week. At least that was what his postcard had said.

No. She was quite alone with the moon tonight. She sensed it. The Wolverine in her head sensed it too. And that suited her fine. Her freedom was complete.

Waist deep now she pushed forward, cutting gracefully through the yielding surface like a hot knife through butter. She gasped as the water swept passed her, sweeping out her hair and trailing it behind her. It seemed to transform her, turn her into some tragic nocturnal water nymph, her two locks of shocking white contrasting vividly against the ink-black, mirroring the hue of the moon.

She almost felt on a high as she glided effortlessly across the lake, her whole body tingling with delight, but it proved to be bittersweet, a great joy tainted by a heavy sadness. Because being out here just made her want him more. Want Logan. Being out here only intensified her longing for him.

The Wolverine in her head instantly retreated, as he always did when her thoughts travelled down this sensitive path. But through guilt, never embarrassment, and something she despised, but detected anyway - pity. She hated that he pitied her.

She took a deep breath and forced her thoughts away from such a sore subject, accepting that there was no point. It wasn't that Logan didn't love her, he just didn't love her in the way she wanted him to love her. He loved her like a sister or a daughter perhaps, and although the Wolverine in her head hadn't ever confirmed this exactly, he had never denied it either.

She stared ahead, eyes accustomed to the darkness now, and realised that she wasn't far from her destination. That perfect circle of gold continued to dance alone on the wind teased surface, awaiting her. Reserving her midnight spotlight.

Swimming faster, the water rushed passed her ears, drowning out all sound, including the distant roar of a motorbike. 

* * *

Part Two

The garages were locked so Logan parked his bike outside the doors. Slinging his pack over his shoulder he headed for the back entrance, keyed in the security code and made for the kitchen, hoping that there might be a beer or two cooling in the fridge.

He had returned to New York a week earlier than he had intended but knew that if he didn't do this now he would probably bolt for good this time. He was an all or nothing kinda guy and if he couldn't have her, he couldn't be around her anymore; it was as simple as that. Things had changed. He had changed. He couldn't just sit by and watch anymore.

He hadn't always loved the kid. Initially she had irritated the hell outta him. But, to his surprise, he had quickly grown to admire her spunk, the fact that she wouldn't take any shit from the big bad Wolverine. Grown men didn't give him as much attitude as she did, but her sas made him remember how to smile, reminded him how good it felt.

Admiration had turned to a desire to protect when that bastard Magneto had come onto the scene, and seeing her...dead...in that twisted machine had triggered something in him, something raw, something he hadn't been able to understand at the time, which was why he had made a swift exit as soon as he knew she was OK. It hadn't been love but it had been the nearest he had ever gotten to it. It was also why he had handed over his dogtags before he left. To offer her something he had never offered anyone else - permission to get inside. He was in her head and he wanted to return the sentiment the only way he knew how.

When he had returned from Alkali Lake she had been a little bit older, a little bit more confident, she even had a boyfriend - the ice-kid. She had looked pretty good too. That scrawny body of hers had filled out in all the right places. Yet despite this, his feelings for her were not being steered by his loins exactly. She was the first person he had ever thought of as a friend, and he didn't want to spoil that.

But all that changed when she had given him back his dogtags.

He wasn't stupid. He had known that Marie had a crush on him and even though back then he hadn't seen her as more than a kid, he had kinda liked it. He had liked that someone so pure and innocent could find something to love about the big bad Wolverine.

But giving him back his dogtags had seemed like closure on her part, a sign that she was moving on. He hadn't liked that. Looking across at her in the tense darkness of Scott's car, after she had handed them back, he hadn't known what to feel. Hurt? Rejected? Angry?

Alkali Lake had only added to the conflicting thoughts in his head, two events that had seemed to overshadow everything else. When Marie had been sucked out of the jet and he thought he had lost her, and when Mystique had taken on her guise.

Seeing Marie above him like that had provoked the first spark of genuine desire in him. Had made him realise that he wanted her; that the Wolverine wanted her. He had quickly pushed Mystique away when he had started to become aroused, but he had been more shocked by his reaction than by what the blue bitch had done.

After Alkali Lake he had tried to forget what had happened. Tried to suppress his growing desires. But it wasn't easy. The Wolverine was spoilt, accustomed to getting what he wanted, especially when it came to women. Marie was still dating the ice-kid, much to his irritation, and although he felt a shit for thinking it, he was almost glad she had poison skin so that the relationship would be harder to consummate.

But the feelings wouldn't go away. They only grew stronger. Now that he had given up on his past the present was more dominant that ever. And the fact was, Marie _was_ his present. She was what made each new day worth living.

So, he loved, if the Wolverine was even capable of loving, from a distance and sometimes that distance had to stretch a thousand miles or so for the sake of his sanity. It sated his wanderlust so wasn't entirely a bad thing.

At least, it had, up until a week ago.

He had witnessed a nasty accident. A truck had skidded off the road and ploughed straight into a tree. He had been there to do what he could until the paramedics arrived; only the woman was too far-gone. There was nothing he could do to save her. She had only been a few years older than Marie. She had the same long dark hair.

She had died in his arms.

Her final words to him had been to tell her husband that she would love him forever.

Fuck, if those words hadn't pierced right down into his soul. Ignited those tortured feelings of his. He had realised then, as he had watched the life drain from her young eyes, that although he was practically immortal, Marie wasn't, that she was vulnerable. And if he wasn't around to protect her she could die without him. He could lose her.

Delivering that dying message was the hardest thing he had ever done. Seeing that man break down in front of him had been the final blow. That night he had dreamt that it had been Marie dying in his arms and that he had been that broken man.

He had left for New York that very night.

And here he was again, back at the institute where it had all began, where he had started to feel something besides lust and rage and pain, where he had started to care, to bond...to love.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge, used a claw to prize off the lid and drank half the contents in a few thirsty gulps. Sauntering over to the table he slammed down the bottle, pulled up a chair and sat down.

He couldn't go upstairs. He'd have to pass her room and he didn't know whether he could inhale her sweet-as-honey scent and not act upon it. Hunching forward he ran his fingers through his hair restlessly.

"Damned heat!" he cursed beneath his breath as way of distraction and impatiently dragged off his jacket and flannel shirt before dumping them unceremoniously onto the floor beside his pack. He tugged at the collar of his t-shirt, the humidity close to suffocating, and he suddenly felt caged in by four walls. Downing the last of his beer he stood up decidedly and headed back outside, to the only place that could offer him any respite on a night like this.

He glanced up at the moon as he crossed the lawn down towards the lake. It was full tonight and it stirred something primal in him, something that the animal inside understood all too well. Freedom.

But a flash of memory made him hesitate in his strides and he scrunched his eyes shut as his fists clenched tightly. Taking a deep breath he calmed himself, forcing images of the lab from his mind, reminding himself that he was free now.

His eyes opened and lifted to the moon again. Yeah, he _was_ free. It was over. As the lake came into view he smiled a small smile. And Marie had completed his salvation.

Starting to walk again he dragged his t-shirt over his head, relishing the caress of the cool night air against his clammy skin. He stopped again, deciding to take off his boots and socks, leaving them abandoned on the grass along with his t-shirt.

At the lake's edge a flash of white caught his eye. What looked like an item of clothing draped over one of the small boulders. He strolled casually over to investigate, lifting up a thin cotton dress, but was taken aback when Marie's scent overwhelmed his senses.

Marie?

His gaze flicked back to the wide expanse of night-drenched water, eyes glistening with concern. He frantically searched the lake, panic rising up into his throat when he saw her lifeless body floating in the moonlight. The Wolverine roared within him.

"No!"

Another flash of memory burst to the forefront of his mind and he saw that young woman again; saw her dying eyes, the light fading from them. His dream was becoming reality and for a moment he found it difficult to breathe.

The next instant he was almost totally submerged in the water, swimming for all he was worth and praying that he wouldn't be too late. At the same time a part of him tried desperately to rationalise what had happened. Was her mutation that terrible that it had driven her to this? To try to take her own life? Or had something happened between her and the ice-kid?

Water rushed passed his ears in a loud whooshing sound. He wasn't the world's best swimmer, the adamantium forged to his bones not the most buoyant of metals, and it was no secret that he had never been a lover of water, but he surprised himself with the speed in which he reached her.

He immediately dragged her to him, pulling her into a tight embrace and it came as a relief when she struggled in his grasp.

"Don't do this, kid! It aint worth it!"

"What the - ? Get your hands off -" Marie struggled violently, spluttering as she swallowed a mouthful of water. When she finally calmed enough to register who her assailant was, her countenance filled with a combination of shock and surprise. "Logan?"

"Please, Marie. Killin' yerself aint the answer."

She looked at him blankly, water dripping from her hair down onto her face. "Killing myself?"

Logan's gaze dropped. For the first time he realised that she was naked. He felt his jeans tighten uncomfortably and it wasn't only due to the water.

Marie seemed not to have noticed, however, too preoccupied by the present location of his arms. She stared down at them in disbelief. "Logan," she began nervously. "You're...you're touching me."

Realising that he was still holding her beneath the water he promptly released her.

"No, Logan, you don't understand," she started to explain. "You touched me and nothing happened."

Their eyes locked but neither could summon any words. Logan had never been one for all that romantic bullshit but right at that moment he understood that sentiment of drowning in someone's eyes because he was already lost in Marie's.

Eventually she repeated her words, her tone filled with wonder, a smile tugging at her lips. "Nothing happened." Her eyes widened; became urgent. "Touch me again."

Logan hesitated. Not because he feared her mutation, for he had never feared it, but because he feared Marie's disappointment should it have only been a once in a lifetime freak occurrence.

"Please, Logan," she begged. Her body moved fluidly through the water, closer to him, and the small space between them seemed to spark with electricity. "Touch me."

"I can't, kid."

His words instantly gutted the happy light from her face and Logan chastised himself over his mistake.

"No, Marie...what I meant was..." It was his turn to move closer until they were merely inches apart. His face leant into hers. "I'd rather kiss ya first."

A beautiful smile chased her shadows away. "That _is_ touching, Logan."

He didn't answer her. Instead his mouth pressed tentatively down upon hers. At first nothing happened again but after only a few seconds her mutation took effect. They quickly pulled apart.

Marie looked at him in bewilderment. "I don't understand..."

"I think I do." Logan's hands reached for hers beneath the water. At first she pulled away but he sought them out again, held them tight. Nothing happened. Marie gasped.

"It's the water," Logan insisted. "I think it acts like a barrier."

They continued to hold hands, waiting apprehensively for Marie's mutation to take effect, whilst at the same time their spirits lifted when they realised that the pull was never going to come.

"I think you're right," Marie agreed softly. "Or..." she considered thoughtfully, "It could be a drop in body temperature. Perhaps that numbs the mutation or something?"

Logan grinned crookedly. "If you're right I think we're gonna have to move to the North Pole." He gently squeezed her hands, his thumbs caressing the top of her palms affectionately. As he was lost in those doe like brown eyes all over again he swallowed uncomfortably realising that laying his heart on the line was coming sooner than he expected and not at all like he intended. "Or...we could always move to a cabin in the Rockies. Winters can be damned cold there."

Marie's mouth dropped limply open, and he had to fight the urge not to smile, the deep groove in her questioning brow reminding him so much of himself. "What...what are you saying?"

His eyes searched her face possessively and he took a deep breath, gearing himself up for what he was about to say.

"Logan?" she pressed, voice weighted with expectation.

One of his hands swept out of the water and reached out to touch her hair, the back of his fingers running tensely down the long wet strands. "I've loved ya a long time, kid. An'...an' I can't sit by an' watch anymore." His other hand caressed slowly up her arm and he felt her shiver beneath his touch. Whether through desire or the cold he couldn't tell, for it was difficult to make out her scent from beneath the water.

Her silence was a torture in itself.

"Marie? Say somethin', kid. I can't stand suspense and I think a fish is nibblin' at my ass."

Marie burst out laughing but tears sparkled in her eyes. "Canada?" she reflected. "Yeah, I remember. It was very cold."

He scowled teasingly. "That aint the answer I was hopin' for. You purposely torturin' me?"

"After keeping me waiting all this time? You betcha I am!" Marie smirked cruelly. "Hell, Logan. You must've known I've loved you since the very first moment I saw you!"

Logan smiled sheepishly. "You were a kid, an' kid's have crushes all the time."

"Oh, Logan. You thought it was only a crush?" She shook her head despairingly. "What am I gonna do with you?"

He moved suddenly in the water, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her down so that the water lapped and tickled around their necks. "I can think of a few things."

Marie watched him anxiously. "Logan, we tried...we can't kiss..."

"Who says we can't?"

He moved lower in the water so that it just covered his mouth, making sure his skin got well and truly soaked.

Marie grinned. "Ah!" But her smile quickly died. "Tongues?"

He was conscious of his left eyebrow rising at her bluntness as he lifted out of the water slightly. "They're naturally wet, aint they?"

"I guess we could give it a try." She looked at him seriously. "But if the pull comes -"

He nodded his understanding, lowering himself again. Marie hesitated before doing the same. Running his hands up her back, savouring every inch of her silky skin, he leant forward and allowed their lips to touch again, but this time beneath the water. Initially it felt strange but his need for Marie outweighed the bizarreness of the situation. As their kiss deepened, rapidly becoming more passionate, they quickly lifted out of the water again as their mouths opened and their tongues duelled feverishly.

The pull came approximately fifteen seconds later but it was enough. Enough for now. Enough to share what they had yearned to share for so long. Dropping beneath the dark water once more they repeated this performance over and over again, eager hands exploring one another, savouring an exchange of intimacy they feared would never be possible.

"I'm sorry, Logan," Marie announced sadly, as they took a moment to catch their breath.

"Hey -" Logan hated seeing her look so upset. "'bout what, kid?"

"My skin. Talk about a passion-killer!"

He regarded her intently. "Do I look bored?" he growled, voice heavy with desire, his whole body aching to possess the beautiful woman in front of him.

"Well, no, but - "

"No buts," he playfully squeezed her ass beneath the water, "'cept this kind." He grinned wolfishly. "I can be imaginative when I wanna be and you're just gonna prove a delicious challenge."

She seemed relieved, even appreciative, and offered him a wicked smile in return. "Well, I do have quite a few body stockings back in my room."

She giggled when he growled low in his throat. "Sounds good, darlin'."

She nodded in the direction of the mansion. "Wanna go christen the first now?"

"You read my mind, kid."

Marie ran a teasing finger up through his left muttonchop. "And if it_ is_ the water and not the cold that stops my mutation, we can always share a nice hot bubble bath afterwards."

Logan secretly cursed himself for not making the moves on this little vixen sooner. "You're talkin' my kinda language, baby."

THE END


End file.
